


A New Age For Horror

by Punk_Slime



Category: Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006)
Genre: Description of reader’s genitals are vague, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Other, Porn With Plot, nonbinary reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Slime/pseuds/Punk_Slime
Summary: Someone has to tell Leslie that we want to bone slashers now
Relationships: Leslie Vernon/Reader
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I really planned on this being pure smut and then I realized I just wanna hold this man's hand...

Just as you let your head rest in your hands and your eyes start to close, your heart skips a beat. There was definitely someone standing outside the diner, watching you. Well, now there wasn't. Now that you got a good look out the window.

You rub your eyes and sigh. Time for another espresso shot. There was no way you would admit how futile this cram session was. Even though your notes and textbook had been sitting in front of you, and you hadn't been able to finish reading a complete sentence for over an hour now.

This final was going to tip the scales if you didn't get your shit together. The final that you had in...

You check your phone for the time, and your stomach tightens instantly. How much had you really absorbed this whole time? The test was in 5 hours. At this point there wasn't even a point in sleeping. Maybe grabbing some coffee to go would be the best plan.

Lucky for you, the fear that college instilled in you had managed to push the image of someone watching you out of your mind completely. After a few more tries at quizzing yourself, you order a large coffee to go and pack up all your papers. It wasn't a long walk back to your apartment, maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt...

🔪🔪🔪

You hit your alarm and groan loudly to yourself. Too bad you didn't think to leave yourself any wiggle room to wake up. If you didn't get to it right away, you were going to be late.

Time to run the gauntlet. Get cleaned up. Get dressed. Try to eat /something/. Heat up the coffee you didn't finish (not tasty, but sacrifices have to be made). Grab your bag. Rush out the door.

With a few minutes to spare, you make it to the lecture hall and find an empty seat in the back. The professor's assistants started walking the length of the room in rows, passing down stacks of papers to the student sitting on the end. Once the professor announced the time start, it was like a black out. 

Yes, you definitely took the final. No, you couldn't recall if you understood most of the questions. Maybe it was a repressed memory already. The next thing you remembered was closing your apartment door behind you.

The good news was you didn't have any more finals. Bad news was you couldn't stop worrying about the results. You sink into your couch and mentally fizzle out. There wasn't enough energy in your body to even switch the tv on. All you could do was zone out, and eventually fall back asleep.

A knock at your door pulled you out of sleep. Just as the figure you saw at the diner had entered your dream. Your heart was pounding now, you had to take a moment to breathe and take in your surroundings.

"Coming!" You called out before slouching forward. 

Why couldn't you just get one decent nap in? Frustration tried to keep you on the couch, but the knocking started again, so you quickly got up to answer.

You check the peephole first. The embodiment of cheer you knew as "Leslie" was smiling warmly back at you.

"Ya gonna let me in?"

The frustration slowly left your body and you did in fact let him in.

"Hey, Les. Everything okay?" 

"Yeah of course. I can't come visit my friend once in a while?" He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and shook you playfully.

In response, you smile, albeit weakly. The exhaustion and stress was more than evident on your face.

"Hey," Leslie stepped back and grabbed your shoulders. "Are you alright? You look like a corpse."

"Thanks," you scoff.

"No, really though. What's up?"

"I had a big test today, just didn't get much sleep."

"Come on, let's sit down."

The two of you walk to the couch and settle in. If you weren't so concerned about being polite, you would have passed out in front of him.

"So, what, you were just up all night studying?"

"Yeah, I mean... I haven't really been getting much sleep lately anyway. But yes, I got maybe an hour or two of sleep last night. Er, this morning, I guess."

"What's been keeping you up?"

"What are you, my shrink?"

"Humor me. I'm worried about you, jackass."

"I think someone's following me around. Watching me."

"What?"

"I saw someone outside my window a few nights ago. Sometimes I think someone's following me home at night. Yesterday when I was out studying, I think I saw him. At the diner."

"Are you serious? Have you called the cops?"

"What am I gonna tell them? I've only definitely seen him once. And it's not illegal to stand on the sidewalk. Or look into people's windows."

Leslie sat back against the couch and rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed genuinely upset. Worried.

"I'll stay here tonight," he said, suddenly.

You didn't even know how to respond. Obviously you were grateful for the offer, but you weren't even sure your paranoia was warranted.

"You don't have to do that." 

"No, but I want to. What if someone tries to break in?"

Your stomach churns. Better safe than sorry. Plus, now you didn't have to search for an excuse for Leslie to sleep over. The only time he had before was after nights of heavy drinking. He would pass out on your couch or floor and not move til the following afternoon.

"Yeah alright. Wanna order in?"

His grin answered for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chinese food containers littered the living room. At some point, you'd changed into comfy clothes, and Leslie had let you stretch your legs across his lap so you could lie down. Now this was the recovery you needed. The end of the semester was always a rough point for you.

It was getting increasingly more difficult to stay awake though. At some point, Leslie and switched the lamp off. You watched the blue light of the television flicker on his face for a moment before letting yourself drift off.

Whatever you had been dreaming about, it hadn't been unpleasant. You weren't sure why you woke up, or what time it was, but you were cold and alone. After a few moments of your brain racing around to remember where it was, you sat up. The TV was still on, and gave off just enough light to illuminate the living room. 

"Leslie?" You called out, voice raspy.

No response. You swing your legs off the side of the couch and head toward the kitchen. Shielding your eyes, you flip on the light, but there's no one there either. Maybe he left and didn't want to wake you? Oh well.

While you're up, you grab a cup and start filling it up at the sink. Movement outside the window in front of you catches your eye. It's moments like these that you have to wonder if being on the bottom floor was really a good thing. 

Don't freak out. It was probably an animal. Get a drink, go back to bed. 

The water had started to spill over onto your hands, jolting you back to reality. Before you head to your bedroom, you look out the window again. Your eyes strain to make anything out. At the very least, you couldn't see anything moving. 

You nearly jump out of your skin as someone starts pounding on your door. Now the question was: is answering the door a good idea. Before you can answer that, the pounding starts again. Deciding the possibility of an emergency was more pressing than your stalker that may or may not exist, you go to open the door. In the back of your mind, you hope it's Leslie. He could have locked himself out on accident. 

The empty hallway is maybe more startling than the pounding. Poking your head out, you check either end but see no one. Not even a closing door. Now your heart is thudding so hard in your chest it feels like it might burst. You make sure to lock the door behind you. 

Going to bed was probably the best bet. You turn off the TV and use your phone light to guide your way to the bedroom. As you climb into bed, you start thinking about Leslie again. The worst part of all of this was now you had to admit he was right. This wasn't something you could ignore. 

🔪🔪🔪

Obviously you had every intention of sleeping in, the semester was over. The clatter of your phone vibrating and subsequently falling off the nightstand made sure that wasn't what happened though. You groan loudly and fumble with the blankets, trying equal parts to actually wake up and to find and answer your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! You sleep okay?"

Leslie's voice was like an injection of caffeine. You sit up straight in bed, now wide awake.

"Uh yeah, not too bad. Why'd you bail?"

You can hear him swear softly to himself.

"Something came up is all, I had to run home. I didn't want to wake you up just to get back in your apartment, y'know?"

You suppose it made sense.

"No biggie, I was just wondering. What are you up to today?"

"Oh you know. Work around the house mostly. Want me to stop by later? Maybe you can stay up for the movies we watch this time," he teases.

"That's not even fair, you know I barely got any sleep."

"I'm fucking with you, I like it when you fall asleep on me."

He did not just say that. Almost instantly your face heats up, and any words you might have had ready for him were now caught in your throat.

"You still there?..."

"Uh yeah. Yeah sorry. I'll see you later then?"

"Sounds like a plan. See ya."

Click.

🔪🔪🔪

When Leslie arrived you realized you had to figure out what you were going to tell him. First you both got comfortable on the couch. 

"So," you began.

"So?"

"So… I woke up at some point after you left."

"Yeah?"

"Someone was pounding on my door. Like… I thought they were going to break it down."

"Jesus… You didn't answer it, did you?"

"I mean, yeah, I checked to see. I thought maybe it was you. But there wasn't anyone in the hall."

"Probably a couple of kids playing a prank."

"You were just making a big deal about me answering the door!" You snorted.

Leslie shrugged and reclined slightly in his seat. 

"I don't want you to be freaked out over this. Be cautious, obviously, but don't lie awake all night terrified of what could happen. A lot of things could happen, but a murderer stalking you is less likely than kids being dickheads."

That mindset was essentially how you had kept living this long. From the start, your brain had been telling you terrible things could happen, but you always had to remind yourself it would probably be fine. This time was no different. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right…"

"Cheer up, not being murdered is good news!"

You gently shove his shoulder and snort.

"Okay, okay. What do you want to do?" You ask, turning in your seat to face him.

"Movies? We had a whole stack queued up that you snored through."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short, sorry. I just don't want to jump into the juicy stuff just yet.

Over the span of three movies, you'd cozied up to Leslie. His arm was wrapped around you, and your head was resting on his chest. The two of you had never really discussed feelings for one another, though to be fair you hadn't known each other for that long. Half a year? Or was it closer to a year now?

While you ran the numbers in your head, he started rubbing your arm. The fact that you, a grown ass adult, were blushing over something so innocent was more embarrassing than the act itself. Not that Leslie noticed. His eyes were glued to the screen, his face showed a deep concentration.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat, want anything?" You whisper softly, tapping his chest.

Leslie just shakes his head, and reluctantly releases you. When you reach the kitchen you realize how dark it's gotten. Which probably meant you'd be alone for the night shortly. You heat up some leftover Chinese food and slouch against the counter with a sigh.

From the kitchen you can still hear the audio from the movie playing. Not wanting to bother Leslie with food and or interrupt the movie, you eat the leftovers in the kitchen. Over the sink. Like a wild animal. 

As you turn to throw the container away, you literally bump into Leslie. You didn't even realize the movie's audio had stopped.

"Is it over already?"

He nods.

"Damn, I missed the best part."

You step past him to throw out the garbage and head back to the living room.

"Think I'm gonna head out," he states plainly.

"Already? You can't stay for one more movie?"

"Maybe tomorrow, I gotta get home."

Before "goodbye" even leaves your mouth you hear the door shut. 

Geez. Did I say something?

Unfortunately, even with encouraging words from Leslie, you find it kind of hard to fall asleep once he's gone. For a few more hours you watch movies alone, occasionally checking your phone, hoping to hear from him. He doesn't text though. Which isn't unusual for him, he tends to call more often than anything. This thought process doesn't make you feel any better.

Why was he in such a hurry to get out? 

Another 4 hours had passed before you eventually succumbed to exhaustion, sprawled out on the couch. At least it had been a mostly good day…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, fellas.

The clock on your phone reads 12 PM when you wake up. You don't have any missed calls or texts. No one knocked on your door in the middle of the night, or if they did, you didn't hear it or remember it. While you were in the kitchen last night you didn't see someone watching you. No news is good news sometimes, you decide.

Another few days pass and you still don't hear anything from Leslie. You don't see him when you go out, he doesn't stop by your apartment. If you knew exactly where his house was, you'd probably go check on him, but your knowledge on it was foggy at best. He lived somewhere on the edge of town, out of the way. Even with an address it would probably still be difficult to find without his help. He made it a point to describe how far out of the city it was when he first told you about it.

After about a week and a half, you start getting paranoid again. Someone has been following you home, and for a while that's all you think it is. Paranoia. Up until you start seeing him. It isn't like last time though. There's no way to deny what you're seeing, he doesn't disappear when you look again. It's like he doesn't care that you're seeing him. 

For one reason or another, you don't call the cops. Not that they could do much, surely they had better things to do than sit outside your apartment. You didn't even know what he really looked like. Every time you'd seen him, he was wearing a mask. 

Now you definitely regretted not telling anyone. On your way home from the diner, to us caught a glimpse of someone walking behind you. At first obviously you tried to dismiss it as a coincidence, but after a few blocks you had to fight the urge to run.

Once your building was in sight, you took one last look behind you. The sidewalk was empty. This didn't make you feel any better, and when you assumed you could make it to the door before anyone else you sprinted for it. And to your credit, you were right. No one stopped you at the door. In fact, you made it as far as your living room before you realized you were in trouble. 

All the lights were off, you'd been out all day. Just as you were about to flip the light switch, you froze. You could hear someone else breathing. After what felt like forever, you could vaguely make out the shape of someone standing a few feet in front of you. You were terrified to turn on the lights. You knew he was there but you didn't want to really see him. To face the situation. In the darkness, you could pretend you were just imagining things.

But then the figure started moving toward you. It was so slow at first that you weren't sure it was really happening. Once about a foot of the gap between you had been filled, you stepped backward, and your back was met with the door. 

There were only a few inches between you now, your heart rate had spiked high that your chest was starting to hurt. Your stomach was so tight you felt like you might vomit. Or faint. He was right in front of you now, and you could see the glint of something metallic in his hand. Just as he brought the blade up to your neck you put your hands up in front of you.

"Wait!"

Much to your surprise, he does pause. He smells earthy. Like fresh soil. You can see now that the weapon in his hand is a small scythe. For a second, you almost forgot that you were supposed to be negotiating. All of it just reminded you of the awful stories Leslie had told you about his parents. As far as you knew, he still lived on the farm.

You squint, trying to strain your eyes enough to make out any telling details. For a masked murderer, he was pretty patient.

"Leslie?"

He doesn't reply, but you can't hear his breathing anymore, as if his breath had gotten caught in his throat. You were grasping at straws but… it seemed to work. The space between you doesn't grow. Neither of you move.

You almost felt relieved that it was him. You knew Leslie, and you missed him. He wouldn't really follow through with this, would he?

"Leslie, come on, you know me. We watch the same movies," the more you talked the less you knew where you were taking this.

There was another long pause. You could hear his breathing again, which you supposed was good. Finally, he turned on the light. The mask he was wearing startled you for a moment.

At first he just stared at you. The scythe was still uncomfortably close to you. You try to smile, to reassure him. It doesn't seem to have any immediate effect.

"I'm not scared of you. I really missed you."

More than anything, he seems confused by that statement. He was probably there to kill you, after all.

"You know all that shit people write online, about fictional slashers. We were just talking about it the other day."

Another pause. Was it working? You thought he'd say something by now. The more you talked the worse you thought your defense was becoming.

When he started to chuckle, it took you off guard. When he started laughing so hard he had to cradle his stomach, you felt embarrassed. 

Fanfiction? That was your big fucking plan? Your eyes started to burn, tears threatening to spill over and roll down your face. Once he notices your shaking, the laughter stops and he stands up straight again.

"Woah! Woah woah, hey! Don't cry!" He blurted out in a panic, lifting his mask and let it sit on top of his head.

His hands are resting on your shoulders, he'd dropped the scythe. That… probably meant you wouldn't be getting your throat slashed, right?

"You got some guts, kid."

You frown. It was your turn to just listen quietly 

"You kept your cool that whole time, and then you tried flirting your way out?" He snickered to himself.

"I-... shut up!"

"Listen, Y/N. When I first met you I knew you and I had that connection. You're supposed to be my survivor."

Uh oh. This was sounding dangerous again.

"I think, technically, we can still have that," he says, implying there would be more to that sentence.

Instead of verbally adding to it, he leans down, stopping about half an inch from your face. Survival instinct would tell you to search for a way out. Kick and scream and claw. All you want to do is kiss him though. 

“What do you say? This is how fanfiction goes, right?” His voice is hushed.

Instantly your face is on fire, and the heat is spreading down to your neck and pooling in your chest. Leslie is exactly the gentleman you would have expected him to be. He waits patiently, he doesn’t try to kiss you without a real answer, even though you can tell he wants to.

It’s harder for you to be so polite. You lean forward cautiously so that your lips can meet his. Apparently, that’s the answer he’s looking for. He kisses you back eagerly, moving his hands up to cup your face. 

Everything kicks off from there. Before you can even process the chain of events, his hands have traced up and down your body, and he pulls you against him. Your thoughts try to catch up to you, but his hands run down your back before stopping at your butt. He breaks the kiss to look at you.

"Uh, holy shit, dude."

"What??" You ask, panicked and flustered.

"Your ass is insane!"

You snort and hit his chest.

"No, I'm serious!" 

He squeezes it and makes an exaggerated "o" face. To think this was the guy about to kill you in your own apartment only a minute ago. Actually, probably best not to think about that part.

Just as you go to tell him how big of a dork he is, he lifts you up, and instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist. He trails kisses down your jawline down to you nape of your neck, holding there to nip and suck at the extremely sensitive flesh. 

"U..uh…. Maybe we should… take this somewhere else…." You sputter.

Leslie didn't need to be told twice. Without setting you down, he nearly sprinted up the stairs to your room. You cling to him in desperation. If he didn't kill you with the scythe, falling down the steps would definitely do the trick.

Despite the image you had in your mind, Leslie doesn't throw you onto the bed and rip your clothes off of you, but he does kiss you excitedly once he lays you down on your back. His fingers can't seem to move quick enough for him, as he fumbles to unbutton your jeans before immediately switching to try and pull your top over your head. And you thought you were overwhelmed by it all.

Feeling slightly more confident, you start trying to help him by kicking off your jeans and hurriedly trying to unhook his overalls. These frantic movements are also occasionally interrupted by him kissing you. You have to break the kiss a few times just to ensure things could keep moving. 

Finally you're both free from at least your outer clothes, though Leslie doesn't seem to struggle as much with your underwear as he did with anything else. Once they've been tossed aside, he gets to work, lapping lazily at first. Instantly you feel like all your nerves are buzzing. Your toes curl and dig into the sheets, your back arches and you let out a long sigh. How long had it been since someone had gone down on you? His tongue slipped inside you, drawing you back to reality.

"Fuck…" you whisper, draping your arm across your eyes.

He hums happily in response, pressing his tongue flat against your entrance before kissing it. Seems like you were doing something right, despite being on your back. His hands trail up your legs and stop under your thighs before pushing them up against you. As his tongue slides deeper inside you grasp desperately at his hair, forcing him to stay close. You can feel him grinning against your skin. After swirling his tongue around a few times, he suddenly stops, eliciting a whimper from you. 

He tangles his fingers with yours, pulling your hands away from the back of his head, so he can stand up. Now you can get a full view of him, and god is he gorgeous. The view doesn't last long, he's crawling over top of you in no time, kissing and biting your neck and shoulder. The length of his cock grazes over your already sensitive crotch. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your hips up against his.

"Fuck, Leslie…"

"Hmm?"

"Please…"

"What do you want? You gotta tell me."

Up til that point he'd been grinding against you at a steady pace, but now he'd stopped all together. You squeeze his shoulders and whine, trying desperately to grind up against him.

"Please fuck me."

Maybe a little unceremoniously, he spits in his palm and strokes himself a few times before pressing the tip to your entrance. Not that it hurts the mood any, it's not like your wedding night or anything.

"Touch yourself."

There is no hesitation, you obey immediately, and with that he starts to push into you with a drawn out groan. He buries his face in your neck, both of you are already panting. It takes him a moment before he starts to move his hips again.

His hands run down your sides before stopping at your hips, holding them firmly in place. You sigh and wrap your legs around his lower back.

"You're mine…" he growls softly into your ear with a sudden, deep thrust. 

You gasp and nod, digging your nails into his back.

He takes that as a signal to pick up the pace, rocking his hips harder against you. His fingers grip your hips tight enough to leave faint bruises.

"I knew it, the first time I saw you," he grunts, sweat starting to head on his forehead.

Surprising no one, you can't manage a verbal response, just weak moans. You can feel the burning sensation pooling between your legs. 

"We're connected."

"Leslie, I'm-"

He squeezes your hips, making you yelp. Your bed frame sounds like it's ready to give out under you both at any moment. Knowing full well it would give you that extra push you desperately needed, he bites down on your shoulder, relatively gently at first. As he starts kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin, your vision nearly goes white.

Your entire body jolts and freezes, trembling afterward. He continues pumping into you, causing your legs to twitch. Though it doesn't take him long to catch up to you. Before you know it he's balancing himself with your headboard, stroking himself frantically with his free hand. His climax has a little more flourish than yours, he finishes on your chest and stomach, before promptly collapsing on top of you.

"Leslie," you wheeze breathlessly.

"Hmmmm?"

"You're… crushing me….."

He rolls onto his back beside you, a satisfied if not goofy smile on his face. You quirk your eyebrows and elbow his side.

"Easy! What was that for?"

"What's with the shit-eating grin?"

"It was not that sinister. I can't be happy? I just got to bone my destined rival."

You snort and roll your eyes, "Before you get any crazy ideas about what that means for us, can you get me a towel?"

As the dutiful, apparently off-the-clock serial killer he is, Leslie springs from your bed in search for a washcloth. The amount of time it took for him to return did shock you. That is, it was nearly no time at all.

"Here, champ," he beams, tossing you the rag.

Propping yourself up on your elbows you make quick work of cleaning up so you can wrap yourself up in blankets.

"Hey, Les. One more thing?"

"Anything."

"Put some clothes on."


End file.
